


like stone, unmoving

by RadiantRoar



Category: Tales of Berseria, Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Begging, Denial, F/M, Porn, Sibling Incest, everyone all aboard the sin train the first ride is free, femdom- sort of, it's literally porn, super non-canon now the game's out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6552853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadiantRoar/pseuds/RadiantRoar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Spiritcrest has been your home for centuries, the mountain itself your vessel. The years have passed and you've become stone. Immovable; impassable-- Eizen and you overlook the world as it turns and changes beneath your feet. You're a part of the mountain itself: immovable, impassable, unchanging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like stone, unmoving

When your brother tells you the both of you were human, once, you scoff. You've never thought much of humans, and being told you once were one feels like being told you've descended from a particularly persistent breed of weed. If it wasn't for the distant memories, as far away as the Spiritcrest as the glitter of the ocean, you'd believe you sprouted here, up in the high clean air of the mountains. But tucked away at the back of your throat is the salty taste of the sea and in the corner of your eye, your brother's coat flapping around his ankles as you reached up for his hand aboard a ship with black sails.

Yet the memory of the ocean is a dim sparkle. You and Eizen haven't returned to that place for over a millenia. And unlike other seraphs, you have no urge to mine the details of your short, sordid human life.

The Spiritcrest has been your home for centuries, the mountain itself your vessel. The years have passed and you've become stone. Immovable; impassable- Eizen and you overlook the world as it turns and changes beneath your feet. You're a part of the mountain itself: immovable, impassable, unchanging.

Sometimes, humans- even Shepherds, come to Eizen to ask for his assistance, and your brother turns them away. He's done, he tells them, dealing with the lot of humans.

Let the world move as it wishes. He'll have no part of it.

For as long as you remember, it's been you and him. He lays a hand on your hair, mouth hooked in a wry smile. _Little sprout_ , he calls you, because _it's been centuries, and you haven't grown an inch._

You sulk and tell him to can it, but the truth is that you like the comforting weight of his hand on your shoulder, burrowing your face into his chest. You don't want to give up being his little sister.

Once every hundred years, the two of you sit upon the peak to watch the stars fall down out the sky. The sky is streaked with comets and stardust, and you lean your head against him.

You ask him: Do you ever want to return to that place?

He tells you: Never.

You think the two of you will remain like this, forever.

He drifts off to sleep with his arm around your shoulders: one of the human quirks he picked up like lice from his years of travelling amongst them.

You don't mind. You get to look at him.

You slip out of his embrace and climb atop him, legs straddling his waist either side, and push a strand of blond hair from his face. It's the same shade as your own, and together the two of you could pass as a human brother and sister. Perhaps that's what you were, once.

You kiss him: lips press against closed eyelids, against the harshness of his cheek, on the soft skin beneath his mouth.

Eyelashes flicker open, and Eizen quirks a smile. It asks: so, she wants to play at this again?

For all his mean quips at your expense, he's never anything less than tender when he cups your face and you sink into his kiss. His other hand roams down your waist and colour spills into your cheeks. His tongue moves darts along your lips, and kissing Eizen always feels like stepping into a hot bath. Comfortable; easy; familiar.

Eizen's large strong hands help you strip your gauzy sun dress from over your head. For a few seconds, he just settles back to look at you. You're still straddling his hips, and in the moonlight your skin is bleached bone-white. By day you're _little sprout_ , by by night you become something else. There's something like reverence in his eyes that reminds you of the travellers as they gaze up the ancient and terrifying power of the mountain. You've never cared for the dull prayer of humans, pleading for safety and a healthy crop. It's stupid. Boring. But upon Eizen's alter, as his hands worship you, you are a goddess.

His hands fit like pieces of a jigsaw against your jutting hip-bones. You can feel the familiar callouses on his fingers, and he drops tender kiss after kiss down your stomach, down the pit of your naval.

Your nimble hands unbutton him, and you clasp his length in your fingers. Eizen's breath hitches in his throat, and you smile. There's a kind of power in this- for all your brother's teasing, under your touches, he comes undone.

You stroke him. Not too fast. He moans your name, and your smile widens.

You increase the tempo, and beneath you Eizen is flushed and soft, hips rising to meet every thrust of your hand.

Edna, he says. Edna.

He's writhing beneath you, but just as he's about to come completely apart, you stop.

You want him to beg.

He knows how you play this game, and there's a sharp, accusing tone in his eye, misted with pleasure. Edna- he says.

You drop a sickly sweet kiss against his mouth. Say please, you tell him.

 _Edna_ , he growls.

You tell him to watch his manners.

The colour is high up on his cheeks. Your brother is so big, and strong, but in the end, for you, he always begs.

Please, Edna, he asks, almost gasps.

Good, you tell him.

But instead of returning to your previous action, you slip out of your panties and settle back in his lap. You can see Eizen's intake of breath as you hover over him. You ask him: You want this?

Edna, please. Yes. I want this.

His chest is rising and falling rapidly. This is so much _fun_ , you think. As you give him what he wants, sinking down into his length. A groan like a dying man leaves Eizen's lips as he slips inside of you, his size fitting you perfectly. Like he was made for you. Like coming home.

You're on top of him and you have control, and as Eizen reaches up to kiss you you push him down with a firm hand. He's yours. He belongs to you and you alone. You rise and fall in short, sharp little thrusts that leave him incoherent.

Edna, please- he begs you.

You're mine, you tell him.

Yes. I'm yours.

You rise up to the top of his shaft, almost enough that he slips out of you, before clamping around his head and slamming back down. Hips start to roll as Eizen begins to match your pace, panting in your ear as you buck. There are noises leaving your mouth now, as you clench around Eizen, walls tightening around him, his cock twitching inside you, and something _snaps_ -

A tremor, deep and powerful- starting at the base of your temple- runs through your entire body. The entire world fades away as you shudder around Eizen, and he's thrusting into you with wild abandon, fingers digging into your hips. There's a sobbing whine and you don't know if it's from you or Eizen, but in the next moment you know you're screaming.

Eizen's cock throbs- painfully swollen- and then bursts, coming rapidly inside of you. There's several seconds where you feel nothing but Eizen twitching and pulsing inside of you, filling you with his semen. You sob, and Eizen is clutching you tightly as you shudder together.

And then his strong arms surround you and pull you to him. His chest is damp with sweat, but you don't mind. You take his embrace, curling your arms around him like a cat. He plants a tired, affectionate kiss against your hair, murmuring sweet nothings against your ear.

As much as he's yours, you're his, too.

The sky is streaked with stars, and the two of you are alone at the top of the world.


End file.
